


On the Beach

by Ayngelcat



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Season 2 after BOT. Swindle, going through a 'hard time' after the spare parts episode, is befriended by Scavenger, who wants more than just a companion. But it isn't that simple ....</p><p>*WARNINGS:* Severe fluff warning. *Crack.* And sexual acts of the *sticky* variety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> I love this pairing. And thanks to *anon_feather* for writing great Scavenger stories, and making me think so much about him. Swindle, of course, I always think much about!

Swindle sat on the beach, his back against the rocks, watching as Scavenger emerged from the ocean with yet another shovelful of paraphernalia. Scraping and banging sounds followed, accompanied by a dull thudding as shells, coral, bones, boat parts, anchors, driftwood, furniture, other miscellaneous objects and even an outboard motor were dumped on to the sand.

Swindle took a deep intake, enjoying the clean island air washing through his vents and the warmth of the sand. Times had been 'difficult' lately - to put it mildly, what with the 'spare parts' affair and his 'confinement' and punishments after. But Swindle felt more cheerful right now than he had since the whole miserable business began.

And it wasn't just the island and the beach. It was impossible not to feel at least a little cheerful with Scavenger. He was so painstakingly enthusiastic - about everything. Even though most of the stuff he'd been getting was rubbish, not worth the sand it had landed on.

Although - that motor might be worth a credit or two ....

As Scavenger transformed and started to sort the load, Swindle regarded the motor with his head on one side. He felt too lazy to get up and look at it. "Hey - what you want for the outboard?" he called out.

Scavenger stopped what he was doing and looked at him, fondly. "Oh Swindle, I don’t want anything for it! Its just 'stuff' for my collection!" he said, coming over. "See that anchor? I’m going to put it outside the cave. And some of that wood in the weird shapes? It’ll go nicely with those old statues. I'm gonna hang the motor up with some bones - you can make heapsa stuff outta them."

Swindle noticed that Scavenger had in his hand a large pointy shell. He thought of the dangling, clanging mobiles he'd been proudly shown in Scavenger’s cave, only one of several places in the island he’d chosen to store stuff and ‘decorate’. Like everything else, they were useless. He didn’t get it. No, Swindle just simply did not get it.

He wondered how the other Constructicons put up with it. Probably, because, as with him, they were filled with a totally inexplicable affection for all this carry-on.

Scavenger was sitting down beside him, tucking his tail carefully to one side. Steam rose from the green metal as he leaned against the rock next to Swindle, gleaming in the bright Earth sun. He smelled of diesel, combined with salt and smells of the ocean. He turned to Swindle and grinned, handing him the shell. "Have a go with this!" he said.

"Uh, yeah!" Swindle examined the thing, holding it in various ways. "What do I actually do with it?" he asked.

"You listen into it and you can hear the sea!" Scavenger enthused.

Swindle frowned. "But I can hear it anyway!" he said. "It’s kinda - just over there!"

"No, Swindle! You can hear it real loud. Like this!"

Taking the shell back, Scavenger held it to his audio. A smile lit up his face. "It always works!" he said. "I dunno how or why, but it does! Here ..." he handed it back.

It was impossible not to humour the Constructicon. Swindle held the conch to his audio. To his amazement, the roar of waves crashing on sand assaulted his audio, much louder than before. "Say," he said, a wide smile appearing on his own face. "This ain't bad!"

Scavenger was watching him closely, clearly delighted. "I told you so!" he said.

"Yeah!" Swindle listened a bit more, then he looked at the shell. "Can you get more of these things?" he said, examining it.

"Yeah, they’re everywhere ...." But Scavenger wasn’t looking at the shell. He was looking at Swindle. He continued to do so as Swindle turned the shell over again.

Swindle became aware of Scavenger’s gaze, and of the other mech’s engine purring softly. He looked up and his optics met Scavenger’s. "What?" he asked.

"I was just wondering," Scavenger asked, taking the shell and placing it to one side, as a shy smile came on to his face, "if I could kiss you!"

........

Swindle pulled back a little, staring at the Constructicon.

Although, was this such a surprise? Hadn’t he sensed Scavenger wanting this, ever since Scavenger had turned up at the Combaticon base with the ‘gift?’ This was hardly the first time that Scavenger had 'looked' at him; and when they went to the cave, hadn't bits of Scavenger 'accidentally' brushed bits of him just a little too often?

And Swindle couldn't say he hadn’t thought about it. Or that the 'touches' were unpleasant. Of course, there was the little matter of Bonecrusher's 'very protective' attitude. Which paled beside Onslaught's 'orders' - that he was not, under any circumstances, to engage in 'interfacing type behaviour.'

All part of the 'denial of privileges' which made up his 'punishment.' All part of the 'deserved misery.' Yes - even Brawl had been sternly ordered not to touch him - much to the dismay of the tank. Swindle knew what would happen if the 'rules' were broken.

But Scavenger was looking at him so fondly and hopefully. Swindle's spark gave a 'ping.' One kiss? Hell, surely not even Vortex could gripe about that! If he even found out.

Nevertheless, Swindle glanced at the sky. It would just be his luck if his 'team-mates' happened to be passing overhead. But apart from some whispy clouds and a few whirling seagulls, the blue cavern was empty. There was no thwop, thwop of rotors - or roar of shuttle engines either.

"They’re all at a meeting with Starscream," Scavenger said. "Scrapper and Hook are there too. It’s about your gestalt not getting on with ours, or something." He snickered. "I’d have said that was an understatement after that fight last weekend. But its good. It means they leave us alone."

At that, Swindle huffed, crossly. _They went to yet another meeting and left him out!_ And he was a witness to what had gone down between Vortex and Bonecrusher! Well, that settled it. He WOULD kiss Scavenger. And he would enjoy it!

Besides, the warmth coming off the green panels coupled with the oily scent reminded Swindle of how long it had been. He caught the shine of Scavenger’s face metal, the eager glow in the crimson optics. How long since he saw that look? A long time. An even longer time since the recipient was himself.

"Yeah!" he said. "I’d like that!"

"Good!" whispered Scavenger, and then the Constructicon’s lips were closing over his.

..........

There was softness, warmth, and unexpected passion. Their mouths moved together, gently exploring. Swindle reached for Scavenger, taken by surprise at the sudden fierce tenderness. His hand was siezed, gently squeezed as fingers brushed his cheek and Scavenger's lips parted his own.

The kiss deepened. Hands wandered, gently stroking and caressing as beyond, waves crashed lightly on the shore, the sounds of the sea blending with the soft hiss of intakes and gently scraping metal. Scavenger sighed, a deep, contented sound, as though he had been longing for this and thought it would never come. Swindle found himself responding, moaning softly in appreciation.

They broke briefly, and their optics met. The Constructicon’s intakes hitched. "I think you’re beautiful!" he said.

The words sent a surge through Swindle’s spark. He did not take his optics from Scavenger’s as he moved, straddling Scavenger’s lap. Putting his hands on Scavenger’s shoulders, he kissed him again; then his arms hooked around the Constructicon’s neck, brushing the rock behind as the kiss deepened further.

Scavenger pressed up against him, using the rock as leverage. Heat washed through Swindle and he shivered, as fingers trailed over his tyres, and then down his back. Hands settled on his aft, the fingers spreading. Then their glossas were gently entwining, and Swindle's hands were finding seams and plating edges; and Scavenger was squirming, gently grinding his hips.

Swindle could not recall when a kiss last felt so 'complete' and 'right.'. He ground in rhythm with Scavenger, his hands wandering more, enjoying the ‘different’ feel of the Constructicon, the strange, tough alloys. He felt treads and hinges, shafts and hydraulic levers. His hands moved behind Scavenger, in between his back and the rock, and his fingers found the base of Scavenger’s tail. It was foreign, exotic! Charge bounded over his relays as Scavenger moaned and shuddered.

Desire swept through Swindle. Writhing, he fingered the bearings which connected the tail to the rest of Scavenger and murmured into his mouth. With a sharp little cry, Scavenger broke this kiss, Swindle's neck was suddenly bitten, hard, and Scavenger’s engine surged as the Construction gripped him, crying out, bending metal. Swindle gasped. Before he could stop it, his energy field flared.

 _"Oh Swindle!"_ moaned Scavenger, flaring back as Swindle fell against him with his own moans. Sparks scattered over them and on to the sand, and Scavenger wrapped his arms around the jeep and pulled him close.

............

Then they were kissing again, passionately. They kissed on and on, mouths eagerly exploring. Scavenger cupped Swindle’s face in his hands, probing deep with his glossa. His panels burned hot as he pushed up against him, and Swindle felt the heat from Scavenger’s codpiece as his own spike pressurised, straining for release, and his valve began to ache.

Scavenger was trembling, his hands gripping Swindle’s aft. Then Scavenger’s field was flaring again; and Scavenger was rolling him over, his lust raging, tangible and thrilling. Then Swindle’s legs were wrapped around him, the sand hot under his back; and Scavenger was kissing him again, a hand sliding down his side and over his conventional panel cover, which burned with sudden ferocity.

Scavenger’s hand moved to his thigh, then between his legs, and then all Swindle's interface gear was on fire, and he was moaning, his frame shuddering. Scavenger’s tail thrashed, striking the sand and sending a shower of grains pinging off the nearby rocks as Swindle's headlights came on, blazing against Scavenger's hips as kisses grew fierce and hungry, groping feverish and urgent.

In the back of Swindle’s processor, Onslaught’s warning echoed. He pushed it away! Sigma, he had to do this! If they just cabled, well that wasn't kinda full interfacing was it? It would be all right. He wanted Scavenger, needed _some_ kind of connection. His hand swept up Scavenger’s side, seeking his conventional panel, as Scavenger’s throbbing codpiece pressed into him.

"Swindle!" Scavenger gasped, writhing on his windscreen. "I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean for it to happen so quick. I can’t help it!"

Swindle heard the roar of the sea and the cries of the seagulls, and the need for Scavenger was all consuming. But thoughts of Onslaught began to crystalize into a vision as the gestalt bond was suddenly tugging at him, urgently. Then Onslaught’s face - all the Combaticons' faces - swum into view.

"No ..." Swindle pulled back, optics wide, his intakes rasping. He didn’t think the others knew what he was doing. But they sensed something. And he detected anger on Onslaught’s part, disbelief and disappointment on Brawl’s, contempt from Blast Off and finally, he winced as a concentrated bolt of malice came with the sure message that whatever he was doing with whoever, neither he or they were going to get away with it.

And Swindle well knew who that came from.

.................

Scavenger was trembling above him. His energy field crackled again. "What is it?" he rasped.

Thrusting up every barrier he could against the Combaticon bond, Swindle pulled back. "I - uh - I can’t!" he wailed. "I’m sorry, Scav! I just .... can’t!"

The Constructicon paused, heaving above him, his optics wild with desire; his fingers curled, girpping metal, and his tail lashed above, and for a moment Swindle thought Scavenger would not be able to stop himself, and that he would have to fend him off, and he was surprised at how desolate that made him feel. But a look of sadness, and then understanding came over Scavenger. And then Scavenger had stopped moving, and was stroking his face.

"It’s all right," he breathed. "I know what your situation, Swindle. It just doesn’t stop me wanting you. That’s all."

Swindle felt a sudden pain in his spark, a flooding of intense feelings for the Constructicon which took him by surprise - as everything about Scavenger seemed to do. Wrapping his arms around the Constructicon, he buried his face in his neck.

"It’d be better if we didn’t do this, Scav," he whimpered. "They’ll kill me. And I don’t want anything to happen. To either of us." He realized to his even greater astonishment that he meant this.

Scavenger held him tightly, kissing him gently. "Nothing will happen to you, Swindle," he said. "Trust me."

"That’s my line," Swindle muttered. "And I dunno that it applies here." But there was a firmness in the Constructicon’s voice, a determination which gave Swindle the strange feeling that Scavenger knew something he didn’t; but that now was not the time to pursue this.

So Swindle simply shuttered his optics and clung to him. "Just stay with me," he whispered.

..............

They lay for a while, entwined, both activating system overrides to suppress the interface buildup, a tiring task, but which one which nevertheless stilled the jumbled thoughts in Swindle’s processor. As his systems cooled and so did Scavenger’s above him, fierce affection replaced the passion and they hugged each other tightly.

Eventually, as the sun lowered in the sky and a pink tinge frilled the horizon, heralding evening, Scavenger leaned up and looked around. The beach was as before, the waves breaking gently, the soft swish of palm trees beyond, the ancient rocks and piles of his treasures nearby. He looked once more at Swindle, and gave him a long lingering kiss, tender and filled with everything he felt.

Swindle felt it, and his spark glowed warmly; then Scavenger moved, rolling off Swindle and sitting up.

For Scavenger, despite the override, the need to overload still burned. But, fortunately for him, one of his team - somebody, anybody - could fix that later, as they'd been doing for several million years. But he did not want to leave the beach - or Swindle - yet.

Besides, there was still much to do! He brightened. "I think I’ll go look for more collectibles!" he said.

"Yeah!" Swindle muttered. Sitting up, he rubbed his optics. "Try and get more of those shell things," he said. "I’ll give them to my team. It might put me in the good books."

"And minibots might go into outer space," he murmured, as Scavenger transformed and rolled off into the water. Still, Brawl would probably like one.


End file.
